Compromise
by The Broken Idealist
Summary: ScorpiusXOC drabble-prompt-one-shot-thing gift fic for isntsheclovely. Both were complete nutters, but neither minded in the slightest.


**Compromise**

* * *

1. Made

"**H**ey!"

It happens in this order: a shout of indignation, an explosion, and then a shriek. A dark cloud of smoke looms over a couple of tables in the dungeons. Professor Slughorn, a very old teacher with a scruffy white beard, manages to dispel it with a wave of his wand. He walks over to the pair in question.

"Are you alright, Abaya?" he asks. The frazzled looking girl, rendered speechless in a coughing fit, manages to nod. He turns to her partner. The blond boy cuts him off before he can speak. His pale face is blackened by soot, but he smirks.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I added some Exploding Ginger Eyelash by mistake." He contorts his face to make it appear as though he feels at least a shred of guilt. Professor Slughorn buys into it.

"It's alright, Scorpius. These things happen even to the best of us. Though I suggest you make a move on completing what's left of your potion." With that, he sweeps away to critique the rest of the class.

As soon as their teacher is out of earshot, the girl, Raine Abaya, gifts her partner with a loathsome glare. "This is entirely your fault, Malfoy. I was trying to grow my hair out," she hisses, holding up her singed dark locks.

"My fault?" he questions with raised eyebrows. "You heard Slughorn. These things happen."

"Everything that is wrong with the world is your fault."

"So then it's my fault you're alive? It's my fault you were born?" he goads.

"Yes!" she cries out in frustration. "You are the reason that I –" _live_. Thankfully, she catches herself before she can finish that sentence. She settles for giving him the silent treatment and goes back to finishing their Invigoration Draught. Her flushed face doesn't go unnoticed.

* * *

2. Winter

**A** group of three stands beside the lake. It is the middle of winter and two thirds of the trio are appropriately attired. However, the final one is the exact opposite.

"I've got to stop saying 'How stupid can you be?'" Raine mutters. "You two are taking it as a challenge." She stares at her housemate, unfazed at his state of undress. Actually, she is more concerned with the fact that he is clad in nothing but his boxers when the temperature is dozens of drops below zero.

Albus Severus Potter shrugs. "Compensation for him force-feeding me skimmed milk. Plus five Galleons."

She rolls her eyes and sets her gaze on Scorpius. Okay, so she's a little fazed. Who can blame her? The boy is lean and classically handsome. His body ripples as he shivers. He starts jumping up and down to warm himself. Raine indulges herself. She is a perfectly healthy young female. Nothing to be ashamed of.

He catches her staring. "Like what you see?" he teases. He strikes a pose reminiscent of an underwear model, and she snaps out of her reverie. She smoothly changes the subject.

"You're going to regret doing this once you get in the water." They had melted a portion of the frozen liquid just for this.

"My life is just a bunch of 'it seemed like a good idea at the time' strung together," he quips. With a final smug look at having the last word, he walks over to the edge and takes the plunge.

* * *

3. Sunshine

"**P**otter! Malfoy!" Raine bounds into their dormitory. She steps beside Albus's first and pounds him with a pillow. He wakes with a grunt, and she continues her assault. She steps back, and with a simple charm, proceeds to have pillows levitate and beat up her two dearest friends. They yell for her to stop, but she is merciless. Three of their other friends awake at the racket, and then lull back to sleep when they find out the cause for the commotion. Typical.

"Zabini is calling for morning Quidditch practice in preparation for the upcoming match," she informs them. She gestures at her own body decked in a Beater's uniform.

"But it's a Saturday," Albus whines. He checks outside his window and indignantly adds, "And the sun isn't even out yet!"

"The early bird gets the worm," she responds lightly.

"Yes, but the second mouse gets the cheese," Scorpius says as he pulls his covers over his head. In a moment's notice, they are yanked down. When he raises his head, grey eyes meet brown and he feels his breath catch in his throat because her face is a mere freaking five inches away.

She pushes him out of bed with surprising strength. "You two should try to become morning people like me."

"But I don't like morning people... Or mornings... Or people... " Albus starts. She pretends she didn't hear him.

"I'll be waiting downstairs in the Common Room. Five minutes." She takes her leave. Scorpius dumbly stares at the spot where she stood.

"Maybe I'd be a morning person if mornings were in the afternoon," Albus grumbles.

* * *

4. Quill

**P**rocrastination was an art she had perfected. But this was a particularly gruelling essay she had forgone, and she was starting to feel remorse about not starting on it earlier. They sit in the Great Hall, as she crams and he stuffs his face with pasta taken from the kitchens.

"Hey Scorpius, do you have a long quill that I could borrow?" Raine asks without taking her eyes off her parchment. It's due in a couple of hours and she still needs a few more inches. She had previously been using an Auto-Answer quill but the charm had worn off and the tip had dented.

"I have a long quill, but I don't think you can borrow it." She whacks him on the arm. He curses, because she hits _really_ hard, but he relents and hands her a Sugar Quill out of his pocket. They sit in silence for a while longer, save for the sound of scratching ink on paper.

"You're licking my quill," he points out. It's a bad habit she does when she thinks. She takes it out of her mouth.

"It's a Sugar Quill, and I wasn't licking it. I was biting it," she says as if it's self-explanatory.

He and a group of immature third years sitting nearby have a good laugh.

* * *

5. Socks

"**Y**ou… got me a birthday gift?" She is disbelieving and suspicious, and rightly so. In first year, he had gotten her a present and she had been delighted. She was so innocent and naïve back then. She had ended up with four wads of gum in her hair.

"Yes." He hands her a small brown parcel. "Happy birthday."

She eyes it apprehensively before deciding to tear it apart as carefully as possible. A pair of green and silver socks.

"Knitted them myself." She scoffs. "Okay, fine. I asked our house-elf to do it for me."

"Well, it's the thought that counts," she smiles. She wraps her arms around him briefly. "Thank you, Scorpius."

"It's what friends do."

"This is good. I just had myself waxed down there, so they can slide in pretty easily." He gapes at her.

"I mean I waxed my legs. The socks… will slide in easily." Her eyes suddenly widen in awe. "Master has given Dobby a sock! Dobby is free!"

This girl is insane. He thinks it is an opinion that must be voiced. "What the fuck?"

"Second Harry Potter book. J.K. Rowling. Didn't you read it?" she asks in confusion. "I thought everyone had."

"Did you just… break the fourth wall?"

"Maybe."

* * *

6. Future

**B**ent over getting some schoolwork done isn't how one usually finds Scorpius Malfoy. And yet there he was, in the Common Room by the fire, accompanied by his two friends who could hardly believe it themselves.

"Fifth year is a drag," Scorpius laments after finally finishing up all of his homework. He leans back into the armchair and stretches.

"O.W.L. year, mate. I've always counted on it," Albus says. "Not to mention we have our Career Advice sessions coming up."

"What're you planning on talking to Slughorn about, Al?" Raine asks interestedly.

"Thinking about becoming an Auror, but it's a pretty vague plan. And it's gonna be even harder to step out of Dad's shadow if I go down that road," he says with a hint of resentment. "And you, Abaya?"

"No idea."

"But you said you wanted to beef up your resume by joining a shitload of organizations over the summer," Albus says in confusion. He isn't wrong. She had spent the last summer joining multiple clubs and gatherings with purposes ranging from arithmetic to politics.

"My 'resume' is basically just a list of stuff I hate doing. Though it is useful to have a vast array of things to brag about, no matter how obscure. "

"Hear, hear," Scorpius agrees. "Seriously though, Raine. Nothing whatsoever?"

"Well, I'm working my game plan for retiring in the countryside as an old spinster with a dozen cats."

He points out that she hates cats. He also mentions that she has about as good chance at becoming an old maid as Rose Weasley does at winning a beauty pageant. Ergo, highly unlikely. She laughs in what they have dubbed an Asthma Laugh, because her breathing becomes ragged and shallow. He personally finds it cute, and he has told her so on more than one occasion. She just elbows him in the ribs.

"We'll see, Scorpius," she says, casting him a meaningful look. He misses it, but only just.

* * *

7. Angels

"**I**t isn't the same as believing in Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny, you know. He really could be there," she argues. They're at it again.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I really don't understand how there could possibly be a big guy up in the sky accountable for all that happens in this universe," Scorpius retorts. "Besides, if I agreed with you, we'd both be wrong."

"Come on. I'm not saying that my belief that he could be there has any more proof than your belief that he isn't. But I think he is."

"If he did, he seems like a pretty messed up old geezer."

She frowns. "How so?"

"This… religion stuff. It's another rift between the Muggles. And apparently, the 'gods' encourage their underlings fighting for their honor. People fight just to make other people think the same way they dol. They use violence to enforce that they are right.

"Those are the extremists. War doesn't determine who is right."

"Yes. Only who is left." He enjoys her Asthma Laugh once more before continuing. "Here's what I see. You worship him and convince others to do the same, you're in the same. You do otherwise, worship someone else or not believe at all, and you're damned. That doesn't feel like a deal a benevolent deity would make.

"It doesn't work like that. I used to think that way too," she says.

"Enlighten me."

"Well, when I was younger, I asked God for a bike. Didn't happen."

"Big surprise," he mumbles under his breath but she hears him. She ignores him.

"Then my grandfather told me that God doesn't work that way. I thought about it some more and realized that he was right. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness instead," she concludes.

From what she's told him, angels are the emissaries and warriors of her God. They are, in essence, everything that is good. They are pure and innocent and untouched. He stares at her. She awaits his reaction with doe eyes and a gentle smile. He wonders if all angels have little devils inside them like she does.

* * *

8. Bludger

"**R**ed needs to have that wand shoved up her ass checked," Scorpius says in annoyance. After another nasty run with the object of Scorpius's irritation, the three head down to the Quidditch pitch for the match against Hufflepuff.

Albus, Rose's cousin, is always uncomfortable when the two clash. "Just keep your head in the game."

In no time at all, they're up in the air. But Raine's head is in the clouds. Her grip on her Beater's bat is loose, but she doesn't notice. All she can do is watch Scorpius, who has just scored a goal.

Scorpius. They've been friends since first year, and though she can't quite claim the title of best friend –a title held by Albus –she is second mate. She has seen him at his best and at his worse, and knows him like the back of her hand. Since the year had begun, however, her feelings had lost their strictly platonic nature. She is falling. She is falling hard and fast. Oh wait, is that a Bludger coming her way? Out of instinct, she bats it towards Hufflepuff's unaware Seeker.

Back to dream land. Lately, Scorpius's words have almost never not involved Rose Weasley. Raine isn't a particularly big fan of the girl, but she keeps her mouth shut for Albus's sake. Now, some voice in the back of her head is telling her that if she doesn't do something soon, she'll lose her chance for good.

There is a chance. She sees it in the way Scorpius looks at her, in the little things he does like offer to carry her books for her and always saves her a seat. She sees it in their childish banter. She sees it in the way both their cheeks redden. She sees it in his smile.

She has nothing to lose. Only something to gain.

So that settles it. She thinks it is a very Gryffindor decision to make, and is slightly bitter about that. She gives herself a slap and gets back to the match, aiming Bludgers at anyone on a broom dressed in yellow.

The match is won when Albus cages the snitch in his fingers. A roar of triumph erupts from the stand green with silver lining. The match is won, but there is one last thing she must do. She hits a Bludger towards the back of his platinum blond hair with quick precision. It flies past a small length from his ear, into the wooden post. He whips around and sees her position.

"That was you?" he bellows in outrage and shock. "What the bloody fucking hell was that for?"

"Go out with me, Malfoy!"

* * *

9. Daisy

"**T**his is your idea of a romantic date?" He has just given her a list of their date schedule for their weekend in Hogsmeade.

"This is our idea of a romantic date," he corrects. "Zonko's, the Shrieking Shack, Honeydukes, trying to get into the Hog's Head or some other suspicious pub, and then the Three Broomsticks." She tries to look serious for a moment before breaking out into a Cheshire Cat's grin.

"You know me too well."

"Apparently not well enough to know you've had a crush on me for the past seven months. Oh, that reminds me." He takes his wand out of his back pocket. "_Orchideous_!" A bouquet of daisies erupts from the tip.

"Suave," she says approvingly. "But why daisies?"

"I looked it up in the library, and apparently they mean 'hidden truth.' I think now is a good time to mention that I've had a crush on your for the last three years." His cheeks tinge pink.

"Oh!" And she looks down at her feet. This is so sweet, but they are each other's first official more-than-a-friend. It's awkward as hell, but she figures they will get used to it. She pecks him on the cheek. "Thank you, Scorp. That was really thoughtful of you."

They both blush a shade darker, and she has a new favourite flower.

* * *

10. Colors

_**H**__ell no_ is Raine's first thought when she sees her boyfriend alone. In a secluded part of the library. Crowded around by a gaggle of giggling teenage girls. Those bitches. And the daft prick seems to be enjoying their attention!

She is accustomed to the colour green. She sees it on her tie, her sweater, and her scarf. On her Quidditch uniform, on her House's banners, in the light of her Common Room. Green is the colour of the trees, grass, and forest she inhabits often because of her boys. But she has never seen more green than the moment when one of the girls trails her fingers up Scorpius's forearm. He doesn't stop her.

That's it!

She stalks up to them. "Excuse me, ladies, but my _boyfriend_ and I need to have a little chat." She dares not look Scorpius in the eye. Before any of them can utter a rebuttal, she grabs a very amused young wizard away by the wrist.

They stop at an empty corridor. "Well?" she asks. Her arms cross in front of her chest and she taps her foot impatiently.

"Are you actually jealous?" he asks incredulously. Her eyes narrow dangerously and she seethes red.

"That depends. Did you enjoy the feel of her French manicure digging into your skin, or would you prefer a butcher's knife?"

"Oh Merlin, you are! This is priceless," he laughs. He stops short of her deadliest glare.

"It isn't funny."

"Sorry." If he isn't careful, he'll end up black and blue all over.

"Look, Scorp. I know that we said this whole… thing wouldn't change our friendship, but you have to understand that the boyfriend-girlfriend parameters still apply. You said so yourself. And that includes no flirting with other people."

"It was just a bit of fun," Scorpius says in defence.

"She was eyeing you like you were a Prada handbag! Try to look at it from my perspective. If I got touchy-feely with Aamir Zabini or even, Merlin forbid, Albus, how would you feel?" He feels a stab of guilt. And possessiveness. A lot of it, accompanied by a senseless, low rumble of anger.

She's most beautiful when she's miffed, he decides. She frowns at him, her eyebrows kneading and her lips puffed out in a pout. Her hands rest on her hips, as if she is scolding a puppy or a young child. Her hair is a mess, and she has a blotch of ink on her cheek.

He finally succumbs to the urge to snog her senseless.

* * *

11. Thestral

"**D**o you see them too?"

"Yes."

It's a blissful Saturday, with minimal schoolwork assigned. They had gotten it done early to ensure that they could enjoy the day ahead. With Albus busy with Merlin-knows-who in God-knows-where, they decided to have a little adventure of their own.

They had wandered past Hagrid's hut and stumbled upon a field of Thestrals. To their surprise, they found that they both could see the skeletal figures of the winged horses.

Currently, they are on the grass basking in the peaceful silence, watching the creatures that pull the wagons. He lies on his back while she sits beside him, absentmindedly pulling the blades out of the soil and letting them be blown by the gentle breeze.

"It was my grandfather," she says quietly. He says nothing in return, but sits up to show that he is listening. "He was the closest I've ever come to a father. He was old. He was sick. I was eight. We all saw him suffer through that final heart attack in the hospital. Sometimes though, I think I'm the only one who remembers."

He knows her story and it is not a happy one. He'd rather not bring it up, so instead he focuses on the light. "What was he like?"

She gives a shaky laugh. A nervous, forced one. "He was wild, which I'm sure explains a lot about me. He was dead –" she stops when she realizes her unintentional pun. A pregnant pause. "He was dead smart. And funny. And handsome. And charming. And the only thing he really wanted for me was to be happy. And to never call when the game was on."

He smiles gently. "I would've liked to meet him."

"You remind me of him sometimes."

There isn't much anything he can reply. It happened too long ago for him to offer any condolences; any empty 'I'm sorry for your loss.'

"My grandmother died peacefully, in bed. It was just my grandfather and I with her. He looked more in pain than she did, anyway. He regrets a lot of things, even if she told him not to."

There is nothing more said after that, but they have both learned something new. They share the fact that they are no strangers to death or loss or goodbyes. They hope to find in each other the comfort of consistence.

* * *

12. Apples

"**A**baya. The apples?" Scorpius is referring to the two baskets filled with apples she is carrying over to them. She picks some out and throws him and Albus two each. With Quidditch player reflexes, they manage to catch both. Well, Albus does. One hits Scorpius on the forehead.

The boys put their rock skipping contest on hold in favour of munching on some fruit.

"Where'dcha gettem?" Albus asks with a full mouth. Some pre-chewed bits fly out of his mouth.

"Enamouring, Al," she comments. "I like apples. So Professor Longbottom had this lesson today on this magical seed that will turn into whatever fruit we want after putting them in water and using some incantations. I nicked some and tried it for myself in the girl's bathroom. Didn't really know how much, so I just dumped the whole thing in the sink and did it. And so here we are."

They decide to hold their snickering, because they've done way stupider things.

Albus swears very badly out of the blue. "I promised I'd help Lily with something. She's going to maim me." He feared his little sister more than the devil himself. He stands up and dusts himself off. He whistles a strange tune and then throws his apple core into the lake. The Giant Squid catches it.

"Stay safe!" he calls before sprinting off back to the castle. They both roll their eyes at him.

Scorpius grins wolfishly before scooting over next to her. "He's gone," he says in a singsong. He waggles his eyebrows. Raine giggles and thumps him on the shoulder. He winces, but does his best to maintain his smoulder.

He cups her cheek in his hand and tilts her head to face is. She closes her eyes. He captures her mouth with his, expecting her to taste like the apples they had just eaten. But her lips taste like Butterbeer and he adores it.

* * *

13. Perfume

**Y**ou'd think you know a girl.

He thinks he has her memorized. Her favourite band is a Muggle boy band that came to popularity sixteen years ago. She doesn't go home for Christmas holidays with her half-sister because Hogwarts is her home. She'll eat most anything. She won't do her homework unless it's a few hours before passing time. She uses lavender scented shampoo. Her skin smells like cinnamon.

Until one day, when she decides to wreak havoc on his perception of reality.

"Abaya, it's Easter. We don't have any classes. What on earth do you have your book out for?" he asks when he finds her with her nose in book for the nth time in three days. There's something different about her. And something smells really good.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He nervously nods. He hopes against hope that she is not actually a goblin assassin sent out to seduce him and lure him into becoming a hostage, but fell in love with him in doing so and thus would rape him resulting in mpreg and half-breeds. There's that smell again. It's familiar and alluring, but he can't quite place it.

"Ever since I was a little girl, I've wanted to become an Arithmancer." He is shell-shocked, because well, this is Raine. This is fun-loving, I'll do it tomorrow, Raine. He knew that she was good at Arithmancy, but becoming an actual Arithmancer with nothing to do but look at complicated number charts all day? Imposter alert!

"Professor Slughorn told me that my grades were good enough, but if I want to be accepted into the Wendlock Foundation of Young Arithmancers, I would have to double my scores in most of my subjects. If I want to get anywhere, WFYA is the place to aim for. So I need to conquer my fear of failing and actually try." She escapes back into her thick, dusty book. Another whiff and he finally figures out what it is. Her perfume.

He sighs. So much for midnight skinny-dipping with him and Albus. But she's determined, and he thinks it's hot. "Any other changes I should know about?"

She considers the question. "I've also recently changed my perfume to apricot." It's his favourite scent, and he thinks perhaps he can cope.

* * *

14. Rain

"**Raine!** Are you mad?" Scorpius sputters. "There is a thunderstorm and you want to stand outside and snog in it?"

"It's every girl's dream to have a kiss in the rain," she replies calmly.

"And does it have anything to do with the fact that your name is Raine?"

"Indeed it does, Oh Captain, My Captain. I am a very big fan of irony." She laughs, and it sounds like a mixture of an asthma attack and tinkling bells. She grabs his hand and leads him down the winding staircase, and they exit into the courtyard.

The water drops onto him with such force that he things it is showering bullets. He is drenched within a few seconds of standing outside. He jumps when the sky flashes with lightning and roars with thunder. He is about to tell her that this isn't a good idea when he catches sight of her face.

Her dark chocolate eyes are lit up with child-like delight, as she twirls around with her arms outstretched on either side of her. Her hair is damp and sticking to her skin, but she hasn't a care in the world. Except for him.

He softens and walks up to her. He bows and offers her his hand. She looks at him in surprise, and her expression tells him _I have no bloody fucking idea how to dance_. He shakes his head and positions her arms, one hand held in his and one resting on his shoulder.

They waltz. Or, at least, they try to. When he decides that his feet can't take any more abuse after being trotted on numerous times, he stops them. He takes a deep breath, because the step he is about to take next is a big one. "I love you," he says, and he truly, truly means it.

She's always been an actions-speak-louder-than-words sort of girl, never good at conveying what she really means verbally. So she tiptoes and whispers into his ear, "I think it's time for us to start snogging." _I love you too._

What else can he do but comply to her latest insane whim? The hand he had behind her lowers to the small of her back. He bends down and their lips meet in a passionate reunion. Her hands creep into his platinum blond hair and push him closer to her. The thunder is their soundtrack as they occupy almost the exact same place in the universe.

It is then that he understands just a bit more. Life isn't perfect, but moments like these are. And so is she.

* * *

**A/N:** And that was my birthday gift for my best friend. I'm actually a die-hard ScoRose shipper, but my love for my sister from another mister outranks my passionate shipping. So now I ship ScoRaine too. If you noticed the little sort-of acrostic I did, kudos and cookies to you!

Loved it? Hated it? Tell me so by reviewing! I hope you enjoyed, and if you didn't... well, I love critique just as much as I love compliments, if not more.

Happy birthday, bitch. Love you!

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER**


End file.
